Love for the Creator

There is something mysterious about the way Rumi speaks of love—so boundless, so consuming, so intimate with the Divine that, for a long time, it felt difficult to grasp. How could someone love so deeply what cannot be seen? How could the heart burn for an unseen Beloved?

At first, it feels abstract—beautiful, but distant. The idea of such love seems almost impossible until life itself begins to teach what words alone cannot. It is often through witnessing love, separation, and longing—whether in stories, history, or the quiet observations of the human condition—that the meaning slowly unfolds.

We have heard stories of lovers torn apart—Romeo and Juliet, Heer and Ranjha, Majnun wandering mad for Layla. Stories where love, stripped of the physical presence, transforms into something almost sacred. Where separation purifies longing, and longing becomes a mirror that reflects something greater than the lover themselves.

Because in every human love, especially in the pain of its loss, there lies a hidden reminder: we were made for a deeper love still.

A love older than our childhood, older than our memories, older than the world we walk upon. The love of the One we came from—the One we are, even now, separated from in this temporary realm.

And suddenly Rumi’s voice no longer felt metaphorical. His words became a map.
He was not merely speaking of a romance. He was speaking of the ache of the soul—its yearning to return to its true Beloved. The kind of longing that makes a person want to walk straighter, speak gentler, live with more intention. The kind that makes a heart whisper, I want to go back to Him in a state worthy of being received.

This is the love that binds us to Allah—not through fear, nor through ritual alone, but through a yearning planted deep within us. A yearning awakened through life’s joys and intensified through life’s losses.
It is the love that makes us strive, again and again, to stay on the path that leads back to Him.

Some loves break us. But some loves break us open.
And in that opening, we finally recognize the echo Rumi spent his life trying to describe:
that every longing in this world is ultimately a longing to meet the One who created love itself.